


Intoxicating My Foul Mouth

by Avinasi



Category: The 1975 (Band)
Genre: Drugs, M/M, Matty's Hair, Toast
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 17:57:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4531563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avinasi/pseuds/Avinasi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matty takes it too far. George picks him up with gental hands, and lays him down on the bed. Matty knows he's screwed up but will he do anything about it, before George does. George makes toast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intoxicating My Foul Mouth

The town of where I was last night, Altanta or New Orleans. Nothing but fog to bring up drunken memories. A cigarette in my pocket, high on oxie. I took a step towards the light ahead. Feeling a migraine, a notch off of dead. Stumbling down the rabbit hole. Or stairs, or a hallway, something at an downward angle. Spiral to the floor, laying on the ground.

Drugs intoxicating my foul mouth. Hair like silk robe, dark and soft. Gental came lifting me up with it's arms.

George Daniel.

Satisfied in a sickening way. A smile like a beast. Set me down, my wine fulled veins, puffing out dragon's smoke. Passing my salty tongue, there was blood there. Bitter as I remembered. Laying in my bed, in his arms, he's wishing I'd take it slow. The drugs in me are getting old. I can't take the time to heal again, I need the venom curling in suit. Hands up, ready to shoot, blind in eyes blurred with lies.

You can tell me to stop, more often then not. I take it all in. This time's a not.

Poison flooding back into my veins.

Freezing cold all warmed up next to you. Rubber snapped off my vein, laying down with a tough of white. Shinniny, bright, the light launching blind threats.

George sees my demon, sees right through him. A touch, a kiss. My forehead is lit. A hand in hand, with my self slipping. Slip slipping tripping into dreams.

George let peace with lights turned out. I can't tell him what last night was about. I know it was mumbled, but I'd rather forget. Because love is wrong, between us that is.

Or is this right, the feelings are, all right as the freezing rain.

I messed it all up, I spoke what I felt and I can't sober to that. The light on my forehead still lingering in time. Do I want to face him?

Do I want to tell him? Again it would be, but sober and clean.

This isn't what I wanted.

This isn't my goddamn fairytale.

Cooking for a drunken man, the smell tickled my nose.

George is in unconscious love for this man. Something, neither of them are good at.

Toast, about the only thing he can make.

The drug of choice, that I pushed through my veins, a moment ago it flowed. This wasn't right, the feeling was wrong. The drugs came hard.

Suffering in a jar.

What have you done George.

What was in that syringe?

"Matt." cold words.

I'm in trouble now. The touble that makes me mad. That name called isn't who I am. He knows of my identify, Matty Healy. Matty.

He's upset, more than me it seems though, to call me that. The worst of worst.

"You're bleeding." He tells me. Something I'm too used to.

"You can't keep this up." he tells me.

Words aren't ready to come out yet. Not by my mouth. Damage is still spilled to far.

I look at him. He knows what I'm not asking by mouth.

"It was withdrawal." he tells me.

None of that. He knows I don't want none of that.

I don't want to feel the pain before the edge of my wellness finally kicks in.

My hand gently in his. "Please." says bright eyes. Looking up, he's so tall.

"You need to calm down." I think I hear, but dreams are creeping back in.

Winning the fight, the dark won for tonight.


End file.
